


i'm only seventeen, i don't know anything but i know i miss you

by beantow



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Betty - Freeform, Canon Compliant, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, So here we are, brief glimmadora, but not really, i was considering an AU and then i was like bleh, it makes me feel a lot of ways, sorry but im not sorry, this is based off of some lines from betty by tswift, uhhh it's really fucking sad for a lot of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25835923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beantow/pseuds/beantow
Summary: “You don’t hate me?” Catra whimpers, her eyes growing soft, and Adora’s heart starts to warm. She wants to reach out and wrap her arms around her, but she doesn’t want to encroach on Catra’s space.But she doesn’t have to, because the moment she mumbles “Why would I hate you?” Catra drops into her, burying her face into her chest and clutching onto her shirt.“Because I kissed you! Because I made Shadow Weaver hate you, and it’s all my fault!” Catra sobs into her shirt, her grip on the cloth tightening, threatening to tear it by the seams.ORan angsty 5 + 1 one-shot based off of "betty" by Taylor Swift
Relationships: Adora & Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Glimmer (She-Ra)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 57





	i'm only seventeen, i don't know anything but i know i miss you

**Author's Note:**

> ah, yes, cue the angst. i heard "betty" and i knew what i had to do, so here it is.

_**I won’t make assumptions about why you switched your homeroom, but I think it’s ‘cause of me** _

The worry in the pit of her stomach instantly turns to anger when she spots her best friend stepping out of a different classroom at the end of the day. Adora storms down the narrow hall, her knuckles growing white and a hot frustration spreading through her body.

“Catra!” Adora yells. 

The other girl spins around and her eyes widen when she realizes she’s been spotted. She sprints down the corridor, pushing through the crowds of cadets moving to their next assignment of the day. Adora curses under her breath and chases after her. She might be stronger than her friend, but Catra has always been faster and swifter than her, and catching up to her now is going to be hell. 

The corridor clears and Adora spots her friend’s unruly hair flapping behind her as she runs around a corner. She huffs as she follows her, her chest and legs burning from the impromptu cardio session, but she doesn’t slow down a bit. But she turns the corner, expecting a longer chase, but the corridor is...empty? Adora looks around, confused. Where did she go?

She spots a familiar patch of rust on the floor and grins to herself. Catra might be faster, but Adora knows these corridors like the back of her hand. It wasn’t her intention when she signed up for all the voluntary shifts, but she supposes it’s worth it, now that she knows nearly all of the secret passageways, shortcuts, and hidden rooms in the Fright Zone. 

Hidden rooms that she showed no one other than Catra.

Adora slides her hand against the wall, feeling for the strange groove in the metal. She pulls at the groove and pushes the panel, letting it swing inwards. The dim fluorescent light seeps into the room, illuminating the sliver of the room where Catra’s tail swishes. Adora walks into the space and pulls the panel shut. A tiny lantern hanging from the ceiling sputters, working to keep the space just barely out of complete darkness. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Adora spots Catra’s tail shift, and she follows its movement to her friend, curling in on herself between the wall and a cabinet. 

“Catra, what’s wrong?” she asks, shuffling towards her and sitting by her friend. 

Catra lifts her head, her blue and gold eyes peeking out at her with nothing but anger and hurt. 

“Leave me alone!” Catra hisses, driving her heel into Adora’s chest and letting out heavy sobs. Adora’s body slams into the wall, but she grunts and pulls herself up and sits by Catra again, this time giving her more space.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong!” Adora insists, coughing and clutching her chest. “Geez, I forget how hard you kick.” Catra doesn’t laugh. “Why’d you change homerooms?” Adora asks in a gentle, hushed voice.

“Go away!” Catra shouts, but there’s an edge in her voice that begs Adora to stay. “I know you don’t even like me!”

“What?” Adora’s blood runs cold. “Why...why would you think that?” Her heart grows heavy and she sinks into the ground. “Did I...did I do something to make you think that I...that I don’t like you?” Tears start welling up in her eyes. “I...I thought we were best friends.”

“Don’t lie to me!” Catra slashes at her and hits her arm, her claws tearing through her shirt and into her skin. Adora winces blood leaks out of the cuts and soaks into the cloth, but she doesn’t make any effort to move. “I saw you talking to Shadow Weaver!”

“Is that what this is about?” Adora pulls her knees to her chest. “Is that why you…”

“What do you think, stupid?” Catra sniffles and glares at her. “Why are you even here?”

“Because I do like you! Because you’re my best friend! And I…” Adora gulps. “And I care about you! You always tell me not to care about what Shadow Weaver says, so why do you care so much about what she said to me?”

“You don’t hate me?” Catra whimpers, her eyes growing soft, and Adora’s heart starts to warm. She wants to reach out and wrap her arms around her, but she doesn’t want to encroach on Catra’s space.

But she doesn’t have to, because the moment she mumbles “Why would I hate you?” Catra drops into her, burying her face into her chest and clutching onto her shirt. 

“Because I kissed you! Because I made Shadow Weaver hate you, and it’s all my fault!” Catra sobs into her shirt, her grip on the cloth tightening, threatening to tear it by the seams. 

It always breaks her heart to see Catra crying, especially like this. It hurts to know that even under her cold, stony facade she presents to Shadow Weaver, Catra does care about what Shadow Weaver has to say. They both know Shadow Weaver has always taken a particular liking to Adora, ever since they were little, and Catra says it doesn’t bother her, but Adora knows Catra. 

It’s never the yelling that gets them. It’s the overly sweet, coddling, condescending voice she uses to give an order disguised as a simple suggestion that scares them the most, the voice that neither of them can get out of their heads, the voice that mixes with their own to the point that they can’t tell the difference between the two. The hitting, the electric shocks, all of the physical harm often feel like a relief from the gaslighting, because at least they can point to the bruises and scars and cry. 

If Adora were good with words and feelings, she’d know how to tell Catra that she’s the only thing keeping her in the Fright Zone. She’d know how to tell her that she hates everything else about it, that she hates being Shadow Weaver’s favorite, that...that her kissing her was the best thing to ever happen to her?

But Adora’s not good with words and feelings, and Catra wouldn’t believe her if she said it, anyways. So instead, Adora hugs her tighter and leans down, kissing the top of her head. She wants to kiss her on the lips, the same way Catra did to her yesterday, but...but maybe that’s not a good idea right now, not with Shadow Weaver on her ass. 

And instead, Adora sits in the storage closet with her, absorbing all of Catra’s trembling and tears.

“Homeroom is boring without you,” Adora jokes. “And now, you can’t even make fun of Kyle.”

Catra chuckles, her body shaking with laughter mixed with sniffling. “I guess I’ll have to switch back,” she says, lifting her head and looking into Adora’s eyes. “And don’t you go thinking it’s because I like you.” She pulls away and wipes her face. 

Adora’s eyes flicker to Catra’s lips. They look soft, and Catra looks so beautiful, even when she’s just bawled her eyes out, and she wants to lean in, she wants to show Catra that it’s okay, but she gulps and her eyes flit away. Catra looks at her with a hopeful shimmer in her eyes, and her gaze flicks to Adora’s own lips. 

_Fuck it,_ Adora thinks, leaning down and pressing her lips to Catra’s, letting the warmth in her chest spread all over her body, and letting everything slip away from her mind,letting Shadow Weaver’s “suggestion” of distancing herself from Catra leave her mind forever, because damn, Catra’s lips taste better than any gray ration bar, and this fills her with a swell that she’s never felt before. 

And maybe, she hopes, Catra lets her do this because she _does_ like her.  
  


* * *

_**The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you** _

It’s objectively a perfect sword. Its sharp, adamantine blade gleams in the moonlight cast by the Moon Runestone and its golden hilt accents the bright blue of the powerful gem embedded in it. It fits perfectly into Adora’s hand with ease, each groove of the hilt holding onto her fingers, and it’s weighted so perfectly that it feels more like an extension of her arm than a separate object.

Adora holds the sword up, letting the polished crystal scatter the moonlight all over the balcony garden. The kingdom below is quiet tonight, save for the chatter of friendly neighbors and the occasional clicking of the cobblestone echoing through the streets. Beyond the borders of the kingdom sit the Whispering Woods. The branches wave about in the gentle breeze, rustling their leaves, sharing secrets between the trees and whatever magic lies in each of them. A shining pink, purple, and blue line the woods, and it might’ve been a week since she’s left the Fright Zone, but it’s still a lot of new color to get used to. It’s brighter and yet gentler than the harsh neon lights of the Fright Zone; the green of the grass here is inviting instead of the typical sickly green of the fluorescent lamps that keep the Fright Zone lit up. 

She’s finally alone for the first time since coming here, and it’s...weird. It’s a different kind of alone than she’s used to feeling. Sure, she trusts Bow and Glimmer with her life, now, but they’re still not quite...home. Adora might sleep here, eat here, and do everything here, and yet everything feels foreign, like it’s only temporary and she wonders if she’ll ever get used to water that doesn’t taste like rust and food that’s not just grey and brown. 

(Food has shapes and sizes of all kinds, Adora learns. She especially likes the soft, round “bread” that’s filled with “custard” inside.)

Her fingers curl at her sides, grasping for warmth, and she swallows the breath that catches in her throat when they grab nothing but empty air. She walks towards the edge of the balcony and leans on the wooden railing. All of Bright Moon is so extravagant; this entire castle is a world of excess and comfort that she never knew was possible. This balcony alone is larger than the entire barrack that she’d shared with the other cadets. 

It would be so easy to jump off this balcony and return to the Fright Zone? It was what, barely a twenty foot drop, right into water if she ran fast enough. She’d swim across and walk through the Woods, and right back home.

Right back to Catra.

But Catra’s twisted face of disgust and disbelief at Adora’s transformation and defection against the Horde - against _her_ \- at Thaymor is burned into her mind. Would Catra want her to come back? Was she welcome home? 

She walks back into her room and shoves the sword under the bed, and its light disappears into the darkness of the sheets hanging over the edges. Her hands tremble and she digs her nails into her palms and she bites her lip to stifle the yelp on the tip of her tongue. Adora flops onto the bed, clutching her hands as they tremble without the weight of the sword to balance her. Her chest shakes with shallow breaths, and she feels like she could suffocate right there and then, and she’s not sure she would try and fight it if she did. 

A week ago, she was kissing Catra like the world would end if she didn’t, swearing off Shadow Weaver’s suggestion to distance herself from Catra. Now...now they’re further apart than ever, fighting on opposite sides of the war, and everything Adora’s told Catra, all the promises she made, lay shattered in front of them by the sword. 

She knows she did the right thing, but fuck, if she just wishes she could just be selfish and go back to the Fright Zone, go back to Catra, and just forget about the sword and her stupid magical destiny. 

All the times she failed to protect Catra from Shadow Weaver, all the hurtful words they’d stabbed each other, all the literal stabbings - those had been offenses that she’d regretted and had only recently forgiven herself for. But leaving Catra, alone, at the Fright Zone…

It’s most definitely the worst thing she’s ever done to her.

She doesn’t know if Catra will ever forgive her, but she knows she’ll never forgive herself.

* * *

_**Your favorite song was playing from the far side of the gym, I was nowhere to be found** _

It’s supposed to be a fun night, a fun ball for everyone in the castle, but here she is, sitting on the steps in the courtyard, tucking her hands under her knees and taking shallow breaths. Any minute now, she’s sure that Glimmer and Bow are going to burst through those huge doors, looking for her. It’s not that she expects it; it’s more that that’s what they do. They find comfort in embracing each other during emotional distress, the same way she and Catra used to, and it’s not that she doesn’t trust Glimmer and Bow, no, it’s just that...it’s just that they don’t get it the way Catra does, and Adora doubts they ever will.

Of course that _stupid fucking song_ would play tonight, just when Adora had pulled through a slump and she was beginning to think that she was learning how to cope with things. Adora doesn’t even like the damn song, but she’s heard it so many times at this point that she doesn’t need to hear more than the first five seconds to know what it is. That stupid fucking drum beat, the stupid synthetic keyboard...her heart clenches and she closes her eyes, trying to hold back the downpour. 

_I wish I’d never found that music player,_ Adora thinks to herself, wringing her hands.

After a particularly fruitful rummage through the old storage closets, Adora had found a rectangular object that looked a lot like the tape recorders they had. Of course, Catra had recognized what it was and she’d done some button pushing and music had started playing. Catra had hated the first song, but she’d fallen in love with the second song. It had made her so happy to see Catra so excited that she’d just laughed and told her she could have it, and from then on, they’d listen to the song together all the time, whether it was before going to bed or in other storage closets while they were rummaging for more hidden treasures, and of course, that night on the rooftop.

_“I’ll be coming for your love, okay,” Catra sings, shooting finger guns at her and dancing about._

_“Take on me,” Adora sings along, extremely out of tune, her hand dramatically clasped to her chest. “Take on me!” she whispers._

_“Take me on,” Catra continues. “Take on me.”_

_“I’ll be gone,” Adora belts._

_“In a day or twoooooooooooooooooo!” They both sing, their voices surely alerting everyone in the Fright Zone, but neither of them care. They laugh. Adora snorts and hugs Catra, and before she knows it, the music swells up again, Catra’s quickly pressing her lips to Adora’s, and Adora’s stunned at first, but she just grins at the sensation. She cups Catra’s face and pulls her in again, pressing their lips together for more than just a quick moment, this time, and when they pull away, she rests her forehead against Catra’s and she smiles. She can’t stop smiling and she just wants to kiss her again, and again, and again._

She touches her lips with her fingers. She hates to admit it, but she wishes that she’d gotten to kiss her again—not back at the Fright Zone, though that would’ve been great, but at Princess Prom. Even though Catra had only been there to taunt and distract her while they were stealing the sword, the swell in her chest and the electric jolts tingling in every part of her body while they’d danced together, hand on hip, and that _dip._

 _The absolute_ nerve _of that girl._

Not to mention how her lips groaned, longing for Catra’s warm lips when she’d pulled Catra back from the edge of the roof. Their faces had been mere inches apart. A little push or pull would’ve brought them together again, but instead, they’d gone tumbling off the structure altogether, and Catra...Catra had let go.

She shakes away the thought, embarrassed, but her mind keeps going back to it. _Can you blame me?_ It wasn’t her fault that Catra had looked so damn _good_ in that suit, how well it captured her lean frame, how dashingly handsome her ex-best something had been with an undone bowtie slung lazily around her neck. 

And she can’t stop thinking about that girl on her arm—Scorpia, wasn’t it? She’d seen her around, before, when she was back with the Horde, but Scorpia was older than them, and had become a Force Captain a few months before she had. The image of Catra’s arm holding onto Scorpia’s forearm, how _comfortable_ and _happy_ she’d looked…

She wonders what their deal is. Has Catra kissed Scorpia? Why was she her plus one? Just to taunt her? Just to rub in her face that she’s doing better without Adora there? That she doesn’t miss her, that Adora’s the only one who’s feeling this way?

Maybe she deserves it. After all, she’s the one that left Catra, isn’t she? Catra deserves to have other friends, but damn, Adora really wants to be the only one that gets to kiss her.

“Hey,” says a calm voice, accompanied by a shuffle and a click of heels. “You okay?”

 _Oh, Glimmer._ The more and more she gets to know her, the more and more she reminds her of Catra. In another world, one in which they weren’t trying to kill each other, they’d probably be really good friends, but such a world would never exist in reality. _This_ was reality, and in _this_ world...well, Adora couldn’t be friends with both of them, could she?

“I’ll be fine,” Adora shrugs, deflecting. “I just...I just needed some air. Where’s Bow?”

“He wanted to give you space, but I wanted to check up on you,” Glimmer says, placing her hand over Adora’s. “What’s up?”

“I—I thought I was getting better,” Adora quietly says, looking down at their hands. “I thought that after...after everything, that I’d be over it, you know? But Princess Prom...seeing her again…” _And hearing the song we first kissed to just played in the ballroom, and I realized that I still have feelings for her, but I really,_ really _, shouldn’t feel like this anymore._ Adora turns to Glimmer, who looks at her with kind eyes. “It hurt. And watching her take you, and Bow...I just—ugh,” Adora sighs. “Sorry. I’m not good at the whole words thing.”

“It’s okay, that’s Bow’s thing, anyways,” Glimmer says. She bumps her shoulder to Adora’s and squeezes her hand. “It’s okay to feel that way, Adora. Even if she is trying to kill us, I know you two were...close,” she says, and Adora nearly cries right there and then, because this is so reminiscent of the way Catra would sit with her and hold her hand when she couldn’t go to sleep. 

She’s told Glimmer about how she felt—feels?—about Catra, about their kisses and their last moments together, but she hasn’t told her about the song. Sharing that would be too much. It’s Catra’s song, it’s...it’s _their_ song, it’s _their_ space, it’s supposed to be theirs and theirs alone. To listen to it without her around, to listen to it on her own, with her new friends, just feels wrong, just feels like she’s betraying Catra over and over again.

And she is, isn’t she, as she spends time with her new friends, as she holds Glimmer’s hand, as she does everything without Catra now? 

_You’re all the things I’ve got to remember._

Adora leans on Glimmer’s shoulder and stares up at the blank, dark sky. A few clouds dance over them, cloaking some of the moons for a moment. The night sky at Bright Moon is so different from the night sky in the Fright Zone. The air here is too clean, it tastes too sweet, and it’s all _wrong._

But she made her choice, and Catra made hers. She can’t go back. She’s tried, and she’s failed, and it’s not even like Catra wants her anymore.

“I didn’t want you to come back, Adora!” Catra’s raspy voice cries out in her ear.

Adora’s head snaps up. “What?”

“I said, do you want to go back inside?” Glimmer asks. “I think there’s going to be cake soon.”

The song is probably long over, and sitting out here in the cool evening breeze really did help calm her nerves. “Yeah, sure, let’s go back inside.” She half-smiles at Glimmer, who beams at her and pulls her towards the castle. The DJ, thankfully, has moved onto other songs—songs that don’t immediately bring her mind to Catra.

_But I’ll be stumbling away, slowly learning that life is okay._

She sighs. She needs to let go of Catra, for Etheria’s sake.

* * *

_**Those days turned into nights, slept next to her, but I dreamt of you all summer long** _

She sneaks out of her room to go to Glimmer’s in the middle of the night. She knocks on the door, and a sleepy-looking Glimmer opens the door.

“Hey,” Glimmer says. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“I—I know.”

“Is everything okay?” Glimmer looks at her with soft, wide eyes that melt under Adora’s gaze. They’re a gorgeous purple, which Adora supposes comes with her whole pink hair and sparkles look. She used to think it looked gaudy, but it’s grown on her a lot, and they’re...well, they’re Glimmer’s eyes. 

It happens before she really knows what’s happening. She remembers the hot flush in her face, and then finding her hands full of Glimmer’s shirt and her lips touching Glimmer’s, just for a moment. She remembers the warmth when she pulled away and Glimmer’s face lit up with this _look_ and she pulled her in for another kiss.

Why does it feel so good, but feel so...wrong?

Glimmer’s not objectively a bad kisser, and she’s enjoying this, and she’s feeling something in her stomach, and everything seems fine, but her mind is running at hundreds of miles an hour, and she means to pull away, she means to tell Glimmer that she doesn’t know how she feels. But what started as a fleeting kiss turns into an hour-long makeout, and she tries to muster the courage to talk to Glimmer about it, about the truth, but every time she comes into Glimmer’s room to talk they just end up making out again.

Days, weeks, and finally, a month of this passes. They’ve settled into a sort of routine, and every one of their practiced movements feels mechanical, and she’s so sure that Glimmer notices how bland it feels, but she doesn’t say anything if she notices anything. 

Adora knows this can’t go on any longer. 

So she goes into Glimmer’s room one night, but Glimmer’s lips are on hers the moment she enters the room, and she can’t breathe, and she _can’t breathe, and she_ —

“Glimmer,” Adora pulls away suddenly, gasping for air. “Glimmer, I—”

Glimmer opens her eyes and gives her this _look_ which makes her feel this _way_ she can’t describe and her mind goes _blank._ She needs to tell Glimmer that this needs to stop, that this isn’t good for them, that she’s confused, but her head is pounding and she can’t think properly and—

“I love you,” Adora blurts, looking down at the other girl, her heart hammering against her ribcage. She hopes that it does something, that it...keeps things okay, somehow. Somehow, if she keeps telling Glimmer and herself, she’ll start to feel it, and things can be okay. Things won’t feel so _wrong_ anymore.

But it’s so obviously a lie, and she knows it. Glimmer knows it. They both know it, and they both know that the other knows it. 

Glimmer’s face goes slack with defeat, and she takes a step away from her. 

“No, you don’t,” Glimmer says softly, her shoulders slumping. Adora’s chest explodes. The other girl sits at the edge of her bed, looking up at her. She wipes a few tears from her face but gives her a half-hearted smile. “Not the way you’re trying to tell me.”

“Glimmer, I—”

“Adora, I know you don’t. I—I’ve always known.” Glimmer turns to her, smiling, but the pained look in her eyes betrays her mouth. 

“I—” Adora starts, reaching out to Glimmer, but she retracts her arm. “How?”

“You talk in your sleep,” Glimmer says, offering her a nervous half-smile. 

The air grows silent and thick between them. 

“I do love you, Glimmer,” Adora says, resigned.

Glimmer sighs and her eyes brim with tears. “You don’t need to go trying to convince yourself of something that’s not true.”

“I—I’m sorry,” Adora says, sniffling. “But Glimmer, if you knew—”

“Because I’m a fucking _idiot_ ,” Glimmer says, turning away from her. “Because I thought that maybe, _maybe_ when you kissed me that night, you did have feelings for me the way I did for you. I thought that _maybe_ , you wouldn’t still be in love with your ex-best-friend-turned-enemy.” Glimmer’s face grows redder and redder by the second. Adora opens her mouth to protest, but Glimmer holds her hand out to her. “Don’t. I thought maybe, _maybe_ this could work, but I knew I was just fucking lying to myself.” She lets out a sad laugh and turns back to Adora. “I should’ve known better than to trust a Horde soldier.”

Adora’s blood turns to ice. “Are you fucking with me right now?”

“Am _I_ fucking with _you?_ Oh, that’s rich. Why the _fuck_ did you kiss me? What, was I just _conveniently_ there for you?”

“Stop.”

“Do you even know what it’s like to love at all? Did the Horde teach you? Would you even know what it’s like to feel _anything?_ ”

Adora shoves Glimmer by the shoulders, her entire body shaking with anger. “You don’t get to tell me that,” she hears herself say. “How _dare_ you?”

“You _knew_ I felt something for you, and you just took advantage of that because _you_ don’t know how you feel about something that should be really _fucking_ obvious!” Glimmer shouts. “If you cared about me and Bow or _anyone_ _else at all_ , you wouldn’t fucking _care_ about Catra! All she’s done is hurt us over and over and over again! What’s wrong with you?”

A sickening crunch echoes in the room as Adora crushes her hand into the wall. “You don’t know _anything_ ,” Adora seethes, clenching her jaw, her hand growing numb. She shoves Glimmer again and takes a step in. She feels angry magic pulse through her. “It’s not my _fucking_ fault that I was forced to grow up under the rule of a fascist, imperialist bastard. It’s not my _fucking_ fault that I didn’t get any choice over my childhood, over my destiny, over _anything!_ It’s not my _fucking_ fault that I was “raised” by the same fucking woman who tortured and manipulated your dad when he was a kid. Do you think I _wanted_ this? Do I fucking look _happy_ dealing with this bullshit day and night?” 

“Don’t talk about my _fucking_ dad,” Glimmer says, her voice trembling. “You don’t get to do that, not when you were part of the fucking group that killed him. Just—” Glimmer cocks her head and blinks rapidly. “Just fucking go.” 

For a moment, Glimmer’s eyes turn blue and gold, and she gasps, but she blinks and Glimmer’s eyes return to their regular purple hue. Adora ignores the acute pang in her chest and relaxes her fists. “Fine,” she says, calmly. “Fine.”

She retreats to her own room and absolutely tears apart the pillows. _I need to fix this. We need to be okay. Fuck._

But they don’t get the chance to properly talk, and Adora gets captured in the Crimson Waste, Catra pulls the switch, Queen Angella disappears into an unknown abyss, and Glimmer…

Oh, what has she done?

* * *

_**I can dream about what happens when you see my face again** _

With clones on either side of her, Catra walks up the ramp dressed in sterile white, her head covered by a hood. She uncovers it and smiles at Adora, her eyes a sickly green, her cut hair slicked back neatly in a way it’s never _ever_ been. 

“Hello, Adora,” Catra says in a sugary sweet voice that chills her to the bone. She lunges at her, only to have the clones restrain her. 

“What did you do to her?” she hears herself shouting, and Horde Prime’s evil laugh fills her head.

There’s a flash, and the clones’ grip is gone, replaced by Catra’s on her jacket collar. Horde Prime’s laugh continues to echo. She dangles her off the edge of the platform, a smug grin stretching across her face unnaturally. “Oh, Adora,” she tsks. “You just love playing the hero, don’t you?”

“No, Catra, I—” she pleads, struggling to get her feet back onto the platform. “Snap out of it, Catra!”

Another flash. This time, she’s on the ground, an unbearable pain shooting through her legs. She looks down, and in her arms lays Catra’s trembling body, her chest just barely moving up and down. Her own breath hastens, and she feels the edges of her vision go fuzzy. Her arms are going numb and—and there’s no magic left in her, no matter how hard she tries, and She-Ra is gone, she can’t heal Catra, and now Catra’s body just lies lifeless in her arms, and—and all of this...all of this was for nothing. 

Footsteps approach her. Horde Prime himself looks down at her and grabs her by the collar. “I told you,” he says, grinning, “You miscalculated.” He throws her to the ground and lifts his foot above her head. His boot lands on her skull, and she jerks awake, panting. She looks around. There’s no Horde Prime. She’s just in her room, in Mara’s ship. In her ship. In She-Ra’s ship. She still has magic. She’s still She-Ra. She healed Catra, who’s on the ship with her, and she’s just resting, and they’re on their way back home.

She puts a hand over her heart and clenches the other around the blankets and pulls them up higher. She’s exhausted and she really _really_ needs to rest, especially after transforming for the first time in months, but no matter how hard she tries, she can’t. She’s had nightmares like these forever, not being able to turn into She-Ra and fulfill her destiny, but this one _aches_ in a way the others didn’t. 

It’s different, now, transforming. It’s still got that same surge of power, but it’s almost like. It’s almost like _she_ herself is growing into She-Ra, instead of just turning into her. It doesn’t feel like foreign magic anymore; it’s like she’s the magic herself, and this being, whoever she is, is an extension of who she is, instead of an alter ego. Fuck, her She-Ra’s got that “stupid hair poof” now, as Catra would say. 

She climbs out of bed and walks into the main cabin, which is completely deserted save for Wrong Hordak curiously reading the nutrition labels of ration packets. She knows he’s harmless, she knows that he’s not part of the hive mind, but his presence, his too-white clothes, his neon green eyes...it’s too much. She runs out of the room, stifling a sob, running away from the memory of Horde Prime’s piercing gaze and lingering touches. 

Her feet take her to the corridor where Catra’s room is. She stops in front of the door, her knuckles raised, but she can’t bring herself to knock, no matter how much she wants to. Adora falls to the ground and sits by the door, pulling her bruised knees into her chest and curling in on herself. 

She’s pretty sure Catra’s been awake at some points, but she hasn’t made any efforts to say anything to them. Every time she goes in to check on her, Catra’s back always faces her, her chest moving a little too calmly to be normal. There’s no point in trying to talk to her. She figures that if Catra’s avoiding them—avoiding _her_ —she might as well give her the space she wants. 

If she’s being honest with herself, as much as she wants to see Catra, she’s grateful for the quiet period. She’s not sure how she’ll react when she sees her again, when Catra’s no longer on the brink of death, when Catra will have had time to process whatever the fuck just happened. It’s easier not to think about it, to pretend that everything is fine, to believe that Catra really just needs rest, and that she’ll fit right in with her, Bow, and Glimmer.

But they can’t possibly avoid each other forever, and obviously, not everything is fine, no matter what she wants to believe. They’re going home, now, back to Etheria, just like she promised Catra. She closes her eyes and rests her chin on the tops of her knees, and she stays like that for a while, letting her mind run its course. 

The door next to her swishes open and Catra walks out of the room, wearing a tank top and grey gym shorts. She looks down at Adora and smiles softly. 

“Hey, Adora,” she says, gently, the same way she did when she came back to life and nuzzled into her.

“Catra,” Adora says. “You’re—you’re awake!” She scrambles to her feet, and Catra immediately hugs her, but she’s cold, she’s so _cold_ . “Catra?” She pulls away, her hands on her shoulders, and Catra opens her eyes and they’re _green_ again. Her ears flick and she stands up straighter, a _crackle_ rolling through her entire body, and then she’s on the ground, her body broken again, this time in the middle of the hallway. “No!” she screams, dropping back to the ground. This is her fault. If she hadn’t found the sword, if she hadn’t left the Horde, if she hadn’t left Catra, _none_ of this would’ve happened. 

She slams her head on the ground, sobbing, and she immediately jolts awake, curled up by Catra’s door. The ship is silent, still cruising smoothly through space. Nothing happened. Nothing happened, Catra’s still in her room, and she’s not dead. She’s allowed to breathe.

 _Fuck_ , she just wants to see her face again. She just needs to see Catra’s beautiful eyes, her freckles, her nose, her _everything_ again. She just _needs_ to see Catra full of life again, laughing at her, laughing _with_ her, just...being with her. _I fucking miss you._

_Did you miss me?_

* * *

_**I** _ _**f you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it?** _

Catra’s lips feel even softer than she remembers. They’re soft—almost _too_ soft—and this feels so real, but it can’t be. 

She’s not sure how much more of this she can take. First, seeing Catra walk towards her, putting their foreheads together, loving _her_ as she is—not as She-Ra, but as Adora—only for her to disappear in front of her eyes. Then, seeing herself in the future, wearing...a dress? Glimmer chasing Catra, Bow coming in to tell them they’re going to be late to a ball...reaching out to Catra, who looks at her like she’s her entire world, who reaches her hand out to her first, who’s wearing _shoes_ now. 

And now…

_Don’t you get it? I love you! I always have!_

What a cruel trick of her mind.

It’s what she wants, it’s the _only_ thing she wants, to learn that the girl she’s loved forever loves her back. 

Fuck it. Maybe she’s dying, maybe she’s already dead, and who’s to say she can’t enjoy this moment? If kissing Catra is the last thing she gets to feel before she fades away, if she dies believing that she loves her back, then so be it. Fuck, she’s given so much of herself to the world, so why can’t she just have _the one_ thing she wants?

Her hands roam to Catra’s back with a newfound strength, running all over her shirt, over her warm, trembling body. They move and connect behind her neck, and she pulls Catra in closer, wanting to savor every moment. Maybe Catra’s gotten better at kissing, or maybe it’s the venom making her feel lightheaded and woozy. Either way, this is so much more _intense_ than their first kisses, and she drinks it all in, she drinks Catra in like she will absolutely _die_ without her.

She feels her body grow weak for a moment, and suddenly, a blinding flash of golden light fills the chamber, and magic surges through her body. Maybe this is how she goes out, maybe this is how the world ends, but power pulses through her veins, clearing out all the Elemental’s venom, and the blue heart insignia on her chest glows brightly. 

They pull apart for a single moment and she immediately misses the warmth.

This is the best dream she’s ever had in her life. She feels so strong and sturdy, and she feels so invincible, and she leans in again, kissing the love of her life once more. 

She waits for the dream to end, for her consciousness to slip away, but it never does. She wraps her arms even tighter around Catra, only to find that her arms are a _lot_ larger and she’s not wearing her red jacket anymore. It hits her then, that this isn’t a dream. _This is real._

She loves Catra, and Catra loves her. The chamber crumbles around them, still glowing a bright green, but she couldn’t care less, not when she gets to hold the girl she loves. 

“Woah,” she hears herself mumble against Catra’s lips, and she feels her cheeks grow wet yet again. 

“Don’t ruin it,” Catra says, laughing, but she, too, looks so happy right now. 

She cups Catra’s cheek and touches her forehead to Catra’s, and Catra purrs. A wave of calm envelops them, and she feels calm and safe, despite the world literally falling apart around them. She knows duty calls, but Catra—Catra’s _her_ world, and they deserve to get an extra moment or two together.

Catra looks at her, completely lovestruck, completely soft and vulnerable with her, her eyes shining even brighter than the heart does. Something else flutters in her heart, a sensation that’s not quite calm but not quite anticipation, either. 

“You should go...fix whatever’s going on out there,” Catra says, squeezing her hand. “I’ll be right there, right next to you.”

_So please, just this once, stay!_

She never, _ever_ wants to leave Catra’s side again, but it hits her, then, that they’ll be coming back for each other. When she goes to the surface, she unleashes her own heart onto everything, giving the world a taste of the way Catra makes her feel. Entire fields bloom, trees grow fruit, and magic sparkles in the atmosphere again, but none of it measures up to a fraction of the sensation in her heart. 

It’s only when Catra holds her again that she finally realizes that what she’s feeling is _hope._ An entire lifetime of _this_ waits for her, of hope and Catra, and it’s not a dream at all. This life, it’s hers, it’s Catra’s, it’s _theirs_ now.

_I’m not going anywhere, my love._

_I love you too._

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i listened to betty while writing this. my spotify is probably extremely concerned about me. 
> 
> thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed! please leave kudos/comments! feel free to talk to me on tumblr @catrugh


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